


Who We Are (And Who We Choose To Be)

by GeminiWishes



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alastor is a jerk, Blood, Charlastor if you squint, Charlie's a BAMF, Concerned Vaggie, Pissed off Charlie, Protective Charlie, but what else were you expecting?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeminiWishes/pseuds/GeminiWishes
Summary: With his face being broadcast all over Hell after the turf war with Cherri, Angel Dust really should have expected there to be consequences. Charlie has to face a part of herself that she tries her best to suppress.And Alastor is just here for shits and giggles.
Relationships: Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	Who We Are (And Who We Choose To Be)

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I made a podfic for this story if you'd like to listen to it! -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519313

In the decades that Alastor had been in Hell, he’d come to expect a certain level of chaos from day to day. It would ebb and flow depending on what sort of malicious activity he was currently up to, and where he was conducting said activity, but still - the chaos was expected. With the recent Extermination Day over and done with, the turf wars were in full swing, and Alastor relished in the utter discord. 

When he’d first appeared in Hell, he had admittedly gone a bit off the deep end with his takeover, something he would later learn was due to a sort of insatiable bloodlust that all new souls were subject to shortly after manifesting in the firey pit. Since then, he had learned to curb his violent tendencies, to hone them to a sharpened point until the mere glint of his eye was enough to bring many a demon to their knees. 

At any other time, he would be taking full advantage of the unclaimed territory on the west side, but with his latest little interest, he’d decided to let the others tire themselves out. He’d have no trouble taking the territory for himself once the carnage had died down, if he was still interested. And speaking of his latest little interest…

The Hazbin Hotel - because, really, he absolutely refused to let Charlie keep the name ‘Happy Hotel’ - had caught his attention the moment the Princess of Hell began her little musical number on the picture show. It was an absolutely ridiculous idea, for sure. Redemption? He wouldn’t deny that he’d joined in with the crowd as they’d laughed and mocked her for even suggesting such a thing. Alastor had been alive and dead long enough to know that there was no chance that any of the loathsome sinners in this pit would ever be capable of redeeming themselves. 

But still, something about the project intrigued him. At first, he had thought it was just his morbid curiosity, like when there was a massacre and bystanders gathered for just a glimpse of the slaughter. Then it was the prospect of seeing these damned souls actually try to better themselves. Just imagining it made his grin widen until it threatened to split his face. 

After he’d approached the hotel though, and offered his services as a business partner and investor, Alastor came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, fascinated by the hotel’s founder. 

Charlotte Mange was an odd one. If it weren’t for the overwhelming evidence in the form of photos, eye-witness accounts, and public appearances, Alastor wouldn’t believe that she was the daughter of the Devil himself. He saw the family resemblance, especially in the family portrait that hung in the main entryway of the hotel, but that was where the similarities ended. 

Where Lucifer was cruel, Charlie was compassionate.

Where Lucifer was selfish, Charlie was generous.

Where Lucifer was merciless, Charlie was forgiving.

For a soulless hellborn, she truly was one of the kindest souls Alastor had ever encountered, and that included the time he’d lived in the mortal realm. Such kindness was rare, especially in the bowels of the Bayou, where even the tiniest sliver of compassion was crushed underfoot.

It was ironic in a poetic sort of way. Perhaps the girl was part of Lucifer’s own eternal punishment - to have a child who constantly reminded him of the grace he’d fallen from eons ago, and to watch her struggle in vain to reach an unattainable goal. Because no matter how much Charlie insisted that she desired to help her people out of a sense of duty, Alastor knew what she truly wanted. He saw the glimmer that would appear in her eyes when she spoke about reformed souls being called up into Heaven, to live out the rest of eternity in paradise.

It was quite humorous, in a pathetic sort of way. The spawn of a fallen angel who craved nothing more than to become an angel herself.

He knew there was no way she would ever be permitted into Heaven. She was created from the pure form of sin itself. Her very nature made redemption impossible - a fact that made the whole ordeal all the more entertaining. He was positive she knew it too.

But despite all that, Charlie still put all that she had into the hotel. Her positivity filled the dilapidated space, seemingly brightening up the entire atmosphere. She was constantly running around helping Husk and Niffty, easing her partner’s worry, and working with Angel to curb his sinful ways. And all with a cheery smile and a spark that despite himself, Alastor couldn’t be helped but drawn to.

Alastor set the papers he’d been looking over aside to watch as Charlie played a card game with Angel in the main lobby, reinstating again and again that he wasn’t to cheat in any way. Vaggie was standing behind the hotel’s sole patron, watching him with a glare as he took his own turn. Angel looked rather put out for the most part, but Alastor caught the glimmer of a smile on his face as he played a hand on the table. 

Charlie’s eyes widened before she deflated slightly, tossing her cards onto the table and groaning as she leaned back in her chair. “How do you keep doing that?” she asked as Angel grinned at her with all the pride of a prince. 

“S’all in the poker face, baby.” Angel examined one of his hands in a show of gusto that only made Vaggie roll her eyes before she plopped down on a nearby couch. Niffty passed by, a feather duster in one hand and a damp cloth in the other as she went from window to window, clearing away the cobwebs and dust until she left a trail of gleaming, polished frames in her wake. 

Charlie noticed the little demoness as she scurried past, and smiled softly. “Thank you for all of this, Niffty. The hotel’s never looked better.”

“Oh, well, I’m nowhere near done!” Niffty exclaimed with an eager smile. “This place needs a lot more work before it’ll come even close to my standards! But I’m not stopping until it is.” She shot Charlie another toothy smile before heading over to the nearby bar where Husk was leaning on the counter, nursing another bottle of cheap booze. She climbed up onto one of the barstools and met the cat demon’s eye. “You really should polish this counter, Huskie! It’s absolutely filthy!”

“Don’t call me Huskie,” the bartender snapped. Niffty paid him no mind as she set a bottle of furniture polish and a fresh cloth down in front of him.

“Here you go! Don’t stop until you can see your reflection in it!’

Husk’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How the hell did you-? No, you know what? I don’t even wanna fuckin’ know where you were hidin’ this shit.” He leaned back against the bar, about to bring the bottle back up to his lips when Niffty caught the neck in her claws and squeezed.

“I don’t think you understand, Huskie,” Niffty said, her voice still high and melodious as her singular pupil dilated and constricted, her grin growing impossibly wide. “Your bar is disgusting. You need to clean it. If it isn’t clean, then I’ll get itchy. You don’t want me to be itchy, do you?” As she said it, her claws clenched the bottle until a few small cracks began spider-webbing along the glass. Husk’s eyes widened in surprise at the tiny demoness’ threatening tone.

Alastor couldn’t help but let a wave of amused radio static ripple around him as he watched Husk mutter something before setting the bottle down and picking up the cloth. Niffty bounced slightly on the barstool in delight before she hopped down and went back to cleaning the windows. 

Alastor watched her for a moment before his ears picked up something coming from outside. He perked up slightly and listened closely. He recognized the sound as the roar of an engine before it sputtered out. A moment later, he heard the slam of a car door, followed by the thud of heavy footfalls on the aging steps that lead up to the main entrance. It was then that Alastor picked up the aura emanating off of this stranger. Rage. Bloodlust. Alastor’s smiled widened in delight.

The front door swung open with a slam before a tall figure stormed past the threshold and into the entryway. Alastor’s interest piqued as he recognized the stranger immediately. That gaudy hat and coat were a dead giveaway.

“V-Valentino,” Angel mumbled out. The spider demon’s entire demeanor had changed. Where he had been relaxed and open a moment ago, now he was stiff and closed off, his posture curling in on itself in a vain attempt to protect him. His fingers tightened on the upholstery of the chair he was sitting in, and Alastor could tell that it was taking everything in the demon to not run away. 

Valentino’s lips curled back in a sneer, revealing crimson red teeth offset by a single gold tooth that glinted in the dim light. “So this is where ya slithered off to, huh, Angelcakes?” Angel shrunk down in his seat, and Alastor had to refrain from chuckling at the sight. Seemed that cocky attitude of Angel’s didn’t last too long in the presence of his pimp. How amusing.

“Who the hell are you?” hissed Vaggie as she got to her feet, her spear appearing in her hands. Charlie was also standing now, frowning slightly as she took in the demon overlord’s appearance and demeanor. Alastor watched on in anticipation. Oh, how was the little lamb going to try to solve this one, he wondered.

“Ya gotta lotta nerve leaving me high and dry,” Valentino said. “I find one of my stars up and gone, and then, I get to hear from fuckin’ _Vox_ of all people that yer at some shitty hotel tryin’ to go clean.” He took a step forward, and Angel flinched at the sound, recoiling in on himself. Vaggie growled as she moved in front of the overlord, holding up the spearhead towards Valentino’s face, pointing it right between the gaudy heart-shaped lenses of his shades. 

“Not another step!” 

Valentino merely scoffed at her before looking back at Angel, who kept getting smaller and smaller in his chair. “How many times have I told ya to keep yer ass in the studio? And the second I turn my back, you run off with yer tail between yer legs.”

“Hey! I’m talking to you, creep!”

“Shut the hell up, bitch.” With a single swipe, Valentino effortlessly threw Vaggie to the side, sending the moth demoness crashing into a side table. Charlie cried out her partner’s name in horror as Vaggie struggled to get up, her body shaking from the sheer force behind a blow from a demon overlord of Hell. Charlie was standing in front of Angel now, her eyes wide as she tried to swallow, her throat bobbing with each attempt. Alastor’s eyes narrowed slightly as he began to pick up the faint tracing of an aura around her. It was too weak to properly read, but he was surprised he was picking one up at all on Charlie.

Charlie rolled back her shoulders and held her head high, stepping forward to block off Valentino’s path. “Sir, you have to stop. Angel is my patron, and as such, he is under my protection.”

“Oh, so ya think ya own him now, huh?” Valentino all but spat at her. “Ya got some nerve tryin’ ta steal my bitch, ya stupid cunt.” He shoved Charlie aside, heading straight for Angel Dust. Alastor took a moment to register Charlie falling to the floor before he turned his attention back to his fellow overlord. Angel made a last-ditch attempt to escape, but before he could even scramble out of the chair, Valentino was on him. He wrapped a hand around Angel’s upper arm while the other grabbed his chin and forced him to look up, his claws threatening to break the skin. 

“B-Boss, it’s not-” A sharp slap threw Angel’s head to the side, effectively silencing him. Alastor merely fiddled with his microphone stand. 

“You must think it’s really funny makin’ a fool outta me, Angelcakes.” Valentino’s tone was laced with venom, and as he loomed over the spider, a trail of drool began to dribble from those blood red teeth. Angel went limp in Valentino’s hold as he slowly looked back up. His cheek was already swollen and bright red. 

“Boss, wait-” Another slap. 

“You really think ya can just walk out on me? That you could leave the studio and - what? Redeem yourself?” Valentino let out a snort of laughter. “You really are nothin’ more than a stupid lil’ slut.”

“Get your hands off of him!” Vaggie was up again, her spear in hand as she took a running start and leapt into the air. Valentino turned to ward off the attack, still keeping a hold on Angel. He managed to dodge the blow, but the spearhead still managed to nick his arm and, more importantly, his coat. 

Alastor felt his fur prickle with amusement as he beheld the shocked expression on Valentino’s face quickly morph into cold fury. “Oh, yer fuckin’ dead now, bitch,” he snarled as he shoved Angel back, sending the demon crashing into the table and overturning it. Cards spilled all over the floor and the furniture’s aged wood creaked in protest. Vaggie kept close to the ground, her bow curled into a resemblance of horns that only ever appeared when she was channeling her power.

“Vamos, cabeza de mierda con lentejuelas incrustadas,” she hissed as she prepared to strike. Valentino only scoffed as he advanced, the fur of his coat ruffling with frustration. Vaggie saw the oncoming blow and dodged to the left, with Valentino following on her heels. She made a dive for his legs, but before her spear could hit its mark, the overlord had his hands wrapped around the end of the weapon. 

“You got lucky the first time, but you ain’t landing another hit on me, bitch.” With a quick yank, he bent the neck at a violent angle until it broke with a loud snap. Vaggie’s eye went wide as she was suddenly lifted up by the neck. She tried to shout, but Valentino’s hand tightened around her throat, crushing her windpipe and effectively silencing her. Vaggie began to claw at Valentino’s arm, scratching as deep as she could to try and loosen his hold. Her feet were a few feet off the floor, and Alastor could hear how labored her breathing was becoming as she slowly began to lose her fight. 

“Stop it!” Charlie screamed. She was back on her feet now, running at Valentino as if she planned to help Vaggie. “Put her down!”

“Nobody messes with Valentino. Especially a bunch of retarded lil’ sluts who think they can boss me around.” In a flash of movement, Valentino shoved the spearhead deep into Vaggie’s side. In the same move, he dropped the demoness and grabbed Charlie by the hair. Charlie cried out as she was violently pulled off balance. Her hands shot up to try and alleviate the pain on her scalp, but Valentino had snatched up her wrists before she even had the chance. Bringing up his knee, Valentino slammed it into Charlie’s middle. There was a loud crack when his knee met Charlie, and the breath left her in a pathetic wheeze. She went limp after that, and Valentino tossed the princess away in favor of adjusting his coat and collecting himself. 

Alastor wondered for a moment if perhaps he should intervene, but then he saw the way that Valentino was looking at Angel, and he immediately decided against it. He wouldn’t dare deprive himself of _this_ little show. Afterall, that was why he was here to begin with. Entertainment.

Angel Dust was cradling one of his arms as he furiously scooted back, looking like a caged animal. The comparison made Alastor’s lips curl up even more. Any resemblance of the Angel Dust that had won over countless demons with his films and broken said demons’ heart had disappeared, and in his place was a quivering, pathetic little insect that appeared to have the backbone of a jellyfish. “B-Boss, Valentino, please, I-I didn’t mean to embarrass ya! How was I supposed to know it would be that big of a deal if I left?!”

“Oh, don’t even pretend ya didn’t know ‘xactly what you were doin’, you dumb slut.” Valentino advanced once more, snatching Angel by his bad arm and lifting him into the air. Angel sucked in a breath before howling in agony. Valentino only smirked at the sound. “I should just rip ya open right here and now all over this shitty carpet. I’ve done worse fer less.” He shook Angel, and the spider moaned as his arm visibly dislocated. “But even though you’ve done nothin’ but sass and disobey me, I’m feelin’ generous. Ya may be a dumb fuckin’ whore, but yer a damn good one. So,” he leaned in closer to Angel’s paling face, “Either you come back with Daddy and start grovelin’ for the next century, or I tear open this perfect lil’ body of yers.”

For a moment, Alastor thought that Angel was going to say yes. The spider demon looked like he was about to lose consciousness and burst into tears at the same time. The Radio Demon began to debate which one was going to happen first when he heard a growl. It was a deep, guttural thing, the likes of which he hadn’t heard for quite a while. He glanced to the right, where Charlie was slowly rolling over onto her hands and knees. That earlier aura he’d sensed on her was much more potent now. So much so, in fact, that it made Alastor tilt his head in curiosity.

Auras were an odd thing, he discovered in the time he’d learned to read them. They manifested in all manners of ways, from a simple field of static charge to a full-on lightshow. Sometimes he would smell brimstone or sulfur or blood, or maybe even taste metal on his tongue. He’d met a few demonic entities that had made his mouth water or his fur threaten to stand up before.

Charlie’s aura was a deep wine red. It melded around her like a shadow, like liquid fire that was begging to be set loose. It made his eyes sting, like when a child drew too close a burning log in the fireplace. Her blonde hair had come loose to pool around her like a mockery of a halo. Alastor’s grin widened as he watched two horns slowly sprout out of the top of her head, growing out until they were both at least a foot long. Her body was trembling as the growl grew louder, her muscles taut as her now-elongated nails dug into the floor. 

“You got somethin’ to say?” spat Valentino, who’s attention must have been drawn to the sound of Charlie’s growling. Even Angel was looking at her now. Charlie was silent for a moment, her shoulders tightening up as her breathing began to labor.

If Alastor had blinked, he would have missed it. In a flash, Charlie was across the lobby. Angel fell back onto the ground as she tackled Valentino, letting out an unholy sound that Alastor could only compare to a scream. She shredded that gaudy coat as if it were nothing more than decorative tissue paper before sinking her claws into Valentino’s flesh. Valentino’s moment of surprise passed as he let out a howl of pain and rage. He swiped at her, landing a blow on her cheek that drew blood. 

Only this time, instead of being thrown aside, Charlie merely twitched before slamming him to the ground. She was on top of him a moment later, her back to Alastor as she loomed over Valentino. The overlord’s shades had fallen off of his face and hit the floor with a clatter as he wrestled with the demoness. Charlie let out a high-pitched screech in rage before she bent down and presumably bit Valentino. 

Valentino let out a scream as those no-doubt razor sharp teeth ripped through his flesh. He scrambled to loosen her hold as he buried his nails into her scalp. This only seemed to enrage Charlie even further as she released her hold on his shoulder to instead latch onto his arm. Blood spurted out of the wound and spilled onto the floor as she gave the limb a shake and continued swiping at Valentino’s face.

It was then that Alastor finally saw Charlie’s eyes. Gone were the rather tame dark brown irises. In their place was molten gold embedded in bright red sclera. Those were the eyes that Alastor had come to expect from high-ranking demons, both mortal and hellborn. They were the eyes of a creature that had an insurmountable amount of strength and knew how to wield it. They were eyes befitting the child of Lucifer and princess of Hell, Charlotte Mange. 

Alastor watched on with glee as Charlie tore the demon overlord to bloody ribbons. At one point, he heard Niffty mumble something about having to clean the mess later, but he paid it no mind. What was more interesting, however, was how Vaggie had forced herself to her knees despite the blade buried in her side and began to slowly crawl towards the carnage. Again, Alastor debated stepping in. He could simply block Vaggie’s path and allow Charlie to continue the slaughter. It’d definitely become one of his all-time favorites since he’d manifested here.

“Charlie.” It came out as a wheeze, a pathetic rendition of the usual confidence and command that he’d come to expect from Vaggie. Still, she continued scooting closer. “Charlie, stop. He’s dead.” Blood had pooled all over the floor, and Vaggie ignored how it stained her hands and knees as she moved closer. Vaggie reached out a hand to rest on Charlie’s shoulder, and Alastor was certain that she would be next. As soon as Vaggie touched her, Charlie reeled around and let out another unholy screech, showing off her wicked-looking teeth that were still coated in blood and gore. Vaggie, to her credit, did not balk. Instead, she leaned forward to place both hands on Charlie’s shoulders. “Charlie,” Vaggie said weakly, sounding like she was begging, “Mi amor, vuelve a mi.”

The prickle that signaled the decay of an aura set Alastor’s fur on end. Charlie’s vicious snarl slowly disappeared as she kept her eyes locked with her partner’s. Her breathing was still labored, but she was visibly calming down now. Ever so slowly, the shadows began to fade away into oblivion, the nails sheathed back into her fingertips, and her teeth lost some of their edge. Her horns began to shrink as well, but they did not disappear under her hair. Her eyes remained that threatening red and yellow as they searched for something that Alastor couldn’t put his finger on. 

There was a beat of silence before Charlie finally broke the silence. “Vaggie?”

Vaggie let out a noise of relief as she pressed her forehead to Charlie’s. “Si, soy yo. Estoy aquí. Estoy aquí. Todo está bien.” Charlie stared out at nothing before the focus began to return to her eyes. They flickered down to the ground. She brought a hand up to hover over the broken neck of the spear. 

“You’re hurt.” She looked like she wanted to pull the spearhead out, but thought better of it. “Oh, Vaggie, you’re… you’re covered in blood.”

Vaggie only let out a weak breathy laugh. “So are you.” The words took a moment to register, but once they did, Charlie froze all over again. All at once, Charlie seemed to realize where she was and what she’d been doing. She looked around at the bloody carpeting before her eyes fell onto the carcass beneath her. Her eyes widened and she all but leapt off of the gory remains of Valentino, scooting away like she was afraid. As Alastor watched her retreat, he realized that she was.

Charlie’s head twisted around the room, trying to make sense of her surroundings. It was then that she noticed the bloodstains on her clothes. She hesitated to touch them or the rips and tears in her suit. Instead, her hands trailed up to her face. A single finger ran along her teeth, taking note of their sharpened points. She moved further up and froze when she felt the horns. A look of horror dawned on Charlie’s face, and it was a glorious thing in Alastor’s eyes. 

“Charlie,” Vaggie said softly. She was clutching her side again, fighting through the pain as she tried to approach again. “Charlie, it’s okay.” 

Charlie was hyperventilating now. Her eyes were blown wider than ever before and her throat began to bob. Pure disgust crossed her face, and with a low whimper, she began to heave. Her entire body trembled with the force of it, and she bowed her head as bile finally spilled past her lips, joining the mess on the floor. She coughed, continuing to gag between dry sobs.

“Hey, hey.” Vaggie tried to sound soothing as she came closer. “Just breathe, mi amor.” She reached out a hand towards her lover. “It’s okay.”

“ _No!_ ” Charlie recoiled from Vaggie’s touch, curling in on herself. Her hands moved up to her face, her fingers getting tangled in her hair. “ _No, no, no! It’s not- I-I’m not-!_ ” Her words broke off into another sob. She was shaking as she slowly began to rock back and forth. She began to whisper something, and it took Alastor to a moment to register what it was she was saying.

“ _That’s not me! That’s not me!_ **_That’s not me!_ **”

How interesting, Alastor thought. A demon who didn’t want to admit to her true nature. Perhaps that was part of the princess’ own punishment. Definitely something that he would need to look more into later.

The sound of Charlie’s weak sobs echoed through the hotel lobby as the other’s began to process what had just happened. Niffty was the first to speak. “Well, looks like I’ve got some more work to do,” she said with a sigh and a look of determination. She scampered off, probably to fetch the more heavy-duty cleaning supplies. 

“Jesus fuck,” breathed Husk as he popped up from behind the bar where he’d taken cover. “Didn’t know she had it in her.” He fumbled for a bottle of booze and downed its contents in a few quick gulps. Alastor took this as his cue to speak up.

“Well, that was quite the performance!” He grinned as he stepped over the remains of Valentino. “Why, I dare say that you’ve impressed me, dear!” The click of his shoes seemed to echo in the lobby as he approached. Vaggie made an attempt to reach out and grab the tails of Alastor’s coat, but with the extent of her injuries, she couldn’t do more than merely brush her fingers against the torn hem. Alastor drew closer to Charlie, meeting her eyes and flashing her that toothy smile. Charlie’s still-red eyes were filled with tears and her lip had begun to wobble as she watched his approach. 

For a moment, he was taken back to a time long ago, back when he was still walking the earth. Charlie was replaced with a tanner brunette gal. He couldn’t remember her name. He wasn’t sure he’d ever even bothered to learn it. They were no longer in the hotel, but in a familiar basement with a single naked lightbulb swinging above their heads.

In a flash, the memory fell away, and Alastor was standing in front of the princess of Hell, his shoes stained in the carnage that she had wrought upon another. Bending at the waist, he offered her a hand. She stared at the outstretched hand before meeting his eyes again. He only smiled wider. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the palm of her hand before taking his offered one. He helped her to her feet, keeping a firm hold on her hand as her legs shook slightly. He wondered if that was due to exhaustion. If it was, he was a tad disappointed. Only one mauling and her energy was spent? How anticlimactic. 

“Is-” Charlie paused to swallow, squeezing Alastor’s hand, “Is anyone else hurt?” 

“Well, I’m certain that Angel Dust has seen better days,” he said with a tilt of his head. Charlie glanced over his shoulder to search for the aforementioned demon, but Alastor stepped into her line of view. “Come now, darling. Vaggie and Angel will be tended to. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Charlie looked like she wanted to protest, but Alastor was guiding her away before she could get a word in otherwise. 

* * *

Alastor hummed a little tune to himself as he leisurely strode down the hallway. His eyes flickered along the works of art and decor mounted to the walls as he went, taking in the aged molding and brass sconces that illuminated the hallway with a faint golden glow. He’d wondered what sort of place this hotel had been when it had first been built, or if it had ever been a hotel in the first place. 

Charlie had been quiet as Alastor had led her upstairs to her room. The two little goat demon servants that followed her around were waiting for her, their arms filled with an assortment of items to tend to her injuries and clean her up. He’d left them to it in favor of watching Niffty fret over the mess in the lobby. She fixed up both Vaggie and Angel, claiming she ‘had to stop the mess from getting any worse’ before getting to work.

Usually, a normal wound wouldn’t be enough to kill a demon, even something as extensive as being impaled. It was part of the whole ‘eternal punishment’ aspect of Hell. Most injuries healed quickly, especially for demons with more power. So while Vaggie wouldn’t be chasing anyone around with a spear anytime soon, she only needed a day or two of rest at most before she would be right as rain. The bruises on Angel Dust’s face were already starting to fade from dark blue to a mottled green. They’d no doubt be completely gone by tomorrow. 

Valentino, however, would not be coming back from the disembowelment he’d received. The only injuries that demons couldn’t come back from were ones dealt out by holy weapons and angels.

It seemed that rule applied to fallen angels as well. And their children. 

The longer he was here, the more Alastor was assured that he’d made the right choice in offering his help. This was turning out to be quite an interesting little show indeed. 

Alastor rounded the corner and paused. Angel Dust was standing outside of Charlie’s room, a hand raised to knock on the door. Alastor noticed that one of his arms was in a makeshift sling; he recognized Niffty’s work in the tight knot work. The damage Valentino had caused to the joint must have been quite extensive to require dressing. Angel hesitated for a moment before steeling himself and knocking on the door. After a moment, it opened and Angel stepped inside.

Normally, Alastor didn’t care to listen in on Angel Dust’s conversations. Given the nature of his activities, Alastor found no appeal in hearing about his particular tales of debauchery. But something about Angel’s expression gave the radio demon pause. 

With the flick of a finger, Alastor melded into his shadows and crept under the door, curling into the nearby corner.

Angel Dust was standing in the middle of the bedroom, his arms wrapped around himself in an almost defensive manner. One of the goat demons was looking up at him while the other was rejoining their master on the bed. Charlie was curled up into a ball, wrapped up tightly in a massive blanket. Her hair was spread out over the large expanse of the mattress. Her face was hidden from view, but the aura emanating from her spoke volumes on its own. 

Anguish. Fear. Shame.

Absolutely delicious.

“I, uh,” Angel said, “I guess we’re gonna have to have another round of cards, huh?” Charlie didn’t move from under her blanket. Angel shifted on his feet, his discomfort so obvious that Alastor could taste it. “Niffty got most of the lobby cleaned up. She even got Husk to help put all the furniture back.” Another moment of silence. 

“What do you want, Angel?” Charlie’s voice was scratchy, no more than a squeak. It seemed all that screeching had consequences after all. Alastor took a moment to be disappointed by Charlie’s lack of control before listening in. Angel Dust was rather at a loss as to how to begin, it seemed. He shifted from foot to foot as two of his hands wrung behind his back. 

“I just… I wanted to see how you were holdin’ up. You uh…” Charlie rolled over to look at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy underneath. Gone were the red sclera, golden irises, sharpened teeth and horns. She looked distraught. Angel cleared his throat. “You definitely showed that fucker who’s boss.” 

Charlie’s frown deepened as she took a moment to close her eyes. Her face tightened in a pained grimace. “Angel, if you’re just going to bring up what happened-”

“Thank you.”

“... What?” Charlie was sitting up now, her brow furrowed. Angel looked uncomfortable but didn’t back down.

“I said thank you.”

Charlie blinked up at him, seemingly stupified by his words. “Wha- For what?”

“For saving me, o’course.” 

Charlie looked ashamed of herself. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I could have hurt one of you…”

“The only one ya hurt was Val, and the fucker deserved what he got.” When Charlie didn’t meet his eyes, Angel sighed with exasperation before sitting down on the edge of her bed. “Cha-Cha…”

“I don’t like losing control like that,” she muttered, bringing up her knees to rest her chin atop them. 

“Why don’t you use that power all the time? You wouldn’t get nearly as much shit as ya do from other demons if they saw what I just saw.”

“Because I _hate it!_ ” Her voice cracked from the strain of shouting and she fell into a small coughing fit. Tears were falling down her cheeks now. “I hate having this… this thing inside of me!” 

Angel looked perplexed. Alastor shared the feeling. “You talkin’ about your true form?” Charlie only nodded slightly. “It ain’t a split personality, ya know, doll. That’s all you.”

“But I don’t want it to be!” Charlie sniffled. “I don’t want the thing that defines me to be the same thing that defines my parents! I don’t want people to be afraid of me! I don’t want to hurt anyone! I-I don’t want to be a demon!” She buried her face in her hands as her sobbing began anew. Angel was staring at the princess, eyes agape as he tried to process what he’d just been told. Alastor could practically feel how uncomfortable Angel felt.

“Aw, come on, sweet cheeks. It ain’t that bad.” Angel tried to play off the tension with a playful tone. “I mean, hey, I’m a demon and look at me! I’m awesome like this!” He gestured to his body to emphasize his point. 

“It’s not the same.” Angel’s smile wavered at the venom in Charlie’s voice. Alastor perked up at the sound. Charlie looked up from her hands. “You like being a demon because of the choices you made in your last life. I didn’t get to choose. I was born here. I didn’t get to decide for myself if I wanted to live a good life or not, because no matter what I do, it doesn’t change anything.” She wiped away some of the tears. “I’m still here, in Hell. I’m still… still a monster.”

“Oh, stop it.” Angel rolled his eyes, waving a hand in dismissal. “I’ve been here long enough to know a monster when I see one. Smiles bein’ the prime example. Or Valentino. Or my old man. But you?” He took a moment to take in Charlie’s tear-stained face. “You’re a lotta things, Cha-Cha, but monster ain’t one a them.” 

Charlie was silent as she stared at Angel Dust, a complex look on her face. She seemed to be shocked, yet deep in thought. She looked down at her hands, and Alastor could still vividly imagine her elongated nails tearing through Valentino. She sniffled again before wiping her eyes. She looked up at Angel again, and Alastor saw how the spider demon stiffened at her gaze. He shifted on the bed for a moment before opening up his three good arms.

When Charlie made a noise of confusion, Angel said, “I don’t do this sort of thing often, and I usually charge for it. So ya better take the offer before I change my mind.” Charlie blinked in surprise before scooting forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. Angel enclosed her in a hug as she buried her face in the fluffy fur of his chest. Her shoulders were trembling and Alastor could hear that she was crying again. Angel dutifully didn’t mention it, instead focusing on holding Charlie steady and running one of his good arms through her hair in an effort to calm her down.

Alastor watched for a few minutes before he grew bored. He slithered back out of the room before manifesting in the hallway. He tapped the head of his cane in thought for a moment before turning on his heel, going back the way he came.

The level of chaos here was something to keep an eye on - that much was certain. There was definitely more to play with here than he’d originally anticipated. And Alastor planned to savor every morsel of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to keep everyone as in-character as possible, so here's hoping. There's so little known about Valentino that I literally just read a bunch of fic with him in it just to get an idea of what I had to work with.
> 
> I miiiight do another snippet for this if you guys are interested >_>
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Vamos, cabeza de mierda con lentejuelas incrustadas! - Come on, you sequin-encrusted shit head!
> 
> Mi amor, vuelve a mi. - My love, come back to me.
> 
> Si, soy yo. Estoy aquí. Estoy aquí. Todo está bien. - Yes, it's me. I'm here. I'm here. Everything is fine.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Podfic) Who We Are (And Who We Choose To Be)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519313) by [GeminiWishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeminiWishes/pseuds/GeminiWishes)




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